Demands and Denials

POV: First Person

"Or maybe I can just tell my shift manager that I have to leave..." The words die in my throat as Vance reaches out. He wraps his thick fingers around my hand, forcing it onto his massive forearm.

Every instinct screams at me to yank my arm back, to cause a scene, to do anything but go quietly. Yet, common sense prevails. Antagonizing two walking brick walls inside a crowded diner won't end well for me, especially when I have no idea if they are genuine threats or just overgrown messengers.

Seeing no real option but to play along with this orchestrated intimidation, I leave my hand resting against his corded muscles. I allow him to guide me away from the restaurant floor. The stares of my trapped customers burn into my back as we walk out the glass doors and into the glaring daylight.

A sleek, heavily tinted black car idles at the curb. It looks like something out of a mobster movie. Vance opens the rear door, gesturing for me to slide inside. The moment I settle onto the leather seat, he climbs in right beside me, blocking my only exit. Rhys doesn't utter a single syllable. He just circles the vehicle and slides into the driver's seat, shifting the car into gear.

The ride begins in suffocating silence.

I press myself against the door, putting as much space between Vance and me as the plush backseat allows. My brain works in overdrive, desperately putting the pieces together. Why would a Shifter Alpha summon a random waitress?

It has to trace back to Kaelen.

Did he file some sort of formal grievance against me? Or did he somehow piece together the truth? Did he figure out I am his fated soul mate and decide to drag me, kicking and screaming, straight into his territory?

The fact that an Alpha is involved makes my stomach twist into painful knots. My knowledge of Shifter politics is practically nonexistent, but I know the basics. An Alpha is the ultimate authority. Their word is law.

If I am about to be paraded in front of the feline Alpha, a tiny bit of advance notice would have been nice. At the very least, I could have changed out of my grease-stained uniform.

The drive is mercifully short, but every passing second stretches the tension tighter. We veer off the main roads and approach the secluded feline Shifter compound. I have never been out this far before. Shifters are notoriously private, guarding their borders with fierce dedication. It is rare for them to invite humans past their gates. Part of me wonders if they hide some dark, dramatic secret from the human world. Or maybe they just despise tourists wandering onto their land, trying to snap viral photos of them in their animal forms.

My mind wanders to the grim news stories I read a few years back. A ring of human poachers had been busted for hunting Shifters. They claimed Shifter fur and scales fetched astronomical prices on the black market, far superior to ordinary animals. There were even rumors that Shifter blood and bone were prized commodities for Witches and Sorcerers, used as potent magical catalysts. The thought makes my skin crawl. Drinking a potion laced with bone dust sounds like something straight out of a horror novel.

I force the morbid thoughts away as the car slows down.

My vision suddenly flares. The shift in my sight is immediate. A vibrant blue thread and a glowing red string materialize in the air, pulsing with familiar energy. They stretch out into the distance, confirming what I already suspected.

Siena and my infuriating fated mate, Kaelen, are somewhere very close.

I peer through the tinted window, taking in the feline pack's sanctuary. The land is sprawling, dominated by dense, ancient forests. It makes sense. They need the vast wilderness to run and hunt in their natural forms. We cruise past the towering trees and turn onto a pristine, winding street lined with massive, ostentatious homes. The sheer wealth on display is staggering. The sprawling estates must cost millions. Clearly, the Shifter economy is thriving on a level I never comprehended.

We roll slowly down the immaculate street until we reach the very end.

The house looming before us dwarfs the rest. It is a grand, imposing mansion, radiating power and old money. This is the obvious destination. Rhys parks the car near the entrance.

Vance climbs out first, turning around to offer me his arm once again.

A wave of spite washes over me. They kidnapped me from my job, humiliated me in front of my tables, and dragged me out here without a shred of consent. I ignore his extended arm, stepping out of the vehicle on my own accord.

My defiance lasts for exactly three seconds.

Vance ignores my stubborn stance. He reaches out, closing his hand over mine with an iron grip. He doesn't hurt me, but the sheer strength in his fingers leaves no room for debate. He places my hand firmly back onto his arm, taking physical control of my movements as he escorts me toward the sweeping front steps.

Rhys falls into step behind us, silent as a ghost.

I bite the inside of my cheek, refusing to waste my energy on a pointless argument. I try to recall any scrap of information I know about the feline Alpha. From what I remember from the local news, he is an older gentleman. A respected figure. I have never heard any terrifying stories about him going on bloody rampages, unlike the chaotic rumors surrounding the canine pack's leader.

Wait.

A memory surfaces from a few months ago. A tragic car accident dominated the headlines. A prominent Shifter Alpha and his wife were killed. Was that the feline Alpha?

I don't have time to process the thought. We step through the grand double doors into a sprawling, opulent foyer. Crystal chandeliers hang from vaulted ceilings, casting a warm glow over polished marble floors. As we walk deeper into the estate, we pass a closed side door.

My blue thread vanishes straight through the wood. Siena is definitely in there.

But Vance doesn't stop. He guides me down a ridiculously long, luxurious hallway. Our footsteps echo against the walls until we reach a massive, ornate wooden door at the very end.

My glowing red thread leads right through the center of the heavy wood.

Kaelen is on the other side.

I knew it. Whatever this mess is, it has his fingerprints all over it. Vance reaches out and pushes the heavy door open, stepping inside without bothering to knock.

I brace myself, expecting a crowded room. Enforcers, pack elders, an intimidating old man sitting in a throne-like chair. Instead, the sprawling office is empty, save for a single figure.

Kaelen sits behind a massive mahogany desk, a phone pressed to his ear. He glances up as we enter, murmurs a quick apology into the receiver, and hangs up. He rises slowly from his leather chair.

"Alpha Cross," Vance announces, his deep voice echoing in the quiet room. "We have brought Bria Vale here, as you requested."

My heart stops beating.

The breath vanishes from my lungs. I fight a desperate, brutal war to keep my facial expression neutral, locking down the paralyzing shock and mounting horror threatening to consume me.

Kaelen is the Alpha.

Of course he is.

Because if the universe is going to saddle me with a fated soul mate, it couldn't just be some average, decent guy. It had to be the most complicated, high-ranking, arrogant predator in the entire region. I curse my lack of attention to local Shifter politics. If I had just bothered to read a newspaper, I might have seen this coming.

He is the Alpha. Does that mean I am supposed to bow? Show respect? Grovel for my life?

The thought burns away in a flash of fiery indignation. He is not my Alpha. And status or no status, he just sent two thugs to abduct me from my shift.

"Thank you, Vance. Rhys," Kaelen says, his golden eyes fixed intensely on me. "You may leave."

Both massive men dip their heads in a deep, respectful nod before backing out of the room. The heavy wooden door clicks shut behind them, sealing me inside with the one man I wanted to avoid.

I plant my feet shoulder-width apart, resting my hands firmly on my hips. I refuse to shrink under his heavy gaze. I need to figure out his game before I unleash the anger boiling in my chest.

Kaelen gestures magnanimously toward one of the plush velvet chairs sitting opposite his mahogany desk.

"I would rather stand," I state, my voice ringing clear and steady in the silent office. I cling to this small scrap of composure, proud that I haven't started yelling just yet.

Kaelen doesn't push the issue. He steps around the heavy desk, leaning casually against its polished edge. He crosses his arms, looking every inch the commanding leader he is supposed to be.

"I have decided that if you really have the power you claim to have, then I should use it," he states coolly, his tone infuriatingly calm. "You will spend some time with my sister and Derrick. You will confirm the relationship between them. If it is true that he has another fated mate, you will help me locate and identify this person."

My jaw practically hits the floor.

I stare at him, incredulous. Did he honestly just say he wants to use me? After dragging me here against my will, invading my workplace, and putting my livelihood at risk, he thinks he can just issue orders like I am some convenient tool on his workbench?

"No," I state simply.

The single syllable slices through the heavy tension in the room.

His golden eyes shoot up, locking onto mine. The casual demeanor shatters, replaced by an immediate, flashing anger.

"No?" he repeats, his voice dropping into a dangerous rumble.

"Exactly. No."

My carefully planned self-control evaporates into thin air. The dam breaks, and every ounce of resentment I have harbored since he stormed into my house comes flooding out.

"Why on Earth would I do anything you tell me to do?" I snap, taking a step forward. "You issue commands like I am supposed to care about your opinions. I don't! You push your way into my home, invite yourself in, and then yell at me when I tell you to leave! And now? Now you've basically kidnapped me! I was in the middle of a shift. I am probably going to lose my job because I left early, and for what? What gives you the right to do any of this?"

Kaelen glares down at me, the air in the room thickening with raw, heavy intimidation.

"I am the Alpha here," he growls, his chest expanding as he projects his dominance. "And leading people is my job."

I let out a loud, mocking scoff, rolling my eyes hard enough to ache.

"You aren't my Alpha," I shoot back, my voice dripping with disdain. "And you are definitely no leader. You are only a leader if people choose to follow you. I had no choice in coming here today. That makes you less of a leader and more of an asshole."

The insult lands like a physical blow.

Kaelen shoots to his feet, abandoning his casual lean against the desk. He steps closer, towering over my much smaller frame. He uses his height, his broad shoulders, his sheer presence to try and force me into submission.

"You didn't exactly leave me any choice!" he snarls, defensive anger rolling off him in waves. "You kicked me out! You refused to speak to me when I was standing right inside your house!"

"Because you pushed your way in and demanded my time!" I yell right back, refusing to back down a single inch. I tilt my chin up, meeting his furious golden stare head-on. "Did it never occur to you to just ask me? Or maybe invite me to meet up like a normal person? I got myself into this mess because I want to protect your sister. I haven't abandoned that. I am perfectly willing to help Siena."

I take a deep breath, my chest heaving as I deliver my final verdict.

"But I am not willing to run around after you and obey your every order like some kind of pet."

The words hang in the air, sharp and unyielding.

I tense my shoulders, digging my nails into my palms. I brace myself for the inevitable explosion. I expect the Alpha fury to break loose, for him to roar, to throw something, to assert his dominance over the insolent human daring to scream in his face.

But the roar never comes.

Kaelen stops dead in his tracks. The furious fire in his golden eyes flickers, then dims. He stares at me for a long, heavy second before taking a deliberate step away.

A deep, jagged sigh tears its way out of his chest, echoing loudly in the spacious office. He turns his back to me, running a hand through his hair. He begins to pace. He walks the entire length of the room, his heavy boots thudding against the carpet. One time. Two times. Three distinct times.

I remain frozen in place, watching his broad back, waiting in tense silence.

Finally, his pacing comes to a halt. He slowly turns back around to face me.